She shrank from him as he gripped her hand more forcibly. "Where did you find it!" asked Wood. My garden-close would be a better thing than that. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible.
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